The following day, Marneus Calgar moved with the decisive ruthlessness of a Primarch's son. He reorganized the Vigilus Senate and personally oversaw the execution of fourth-generation Genestealer cultists who had infiltrated the highest echelons of the governing councils.
The three bickering factions of Vigilus were forcefully integrated under his command, streamlining the planetary administration into a singular, efficient engine of war.
Meanwhile, Haarken World-Eater, lurking within the shadows of the system, received word of the Ultramarines Chapter Master's arrival. Simultaneously, Calgar issued a public decree that echoed across every vox-caster on the planet.
"The Imperium shall reclaim the sentinel-world of Vigilus' companion!"
The companion world housed the massive vox-array satellites that had been crippled by Haarken's vanguard, leaving Vigilus' communications fragmented and vulnerable to the screaming interference of the Warp.
Now, the Imperial Navy gathered in force. Space Marine strike cruisers and massive capital ships assembled in high orbit. Calgar announced he would lead the assault personally from the bridge of his flagship, the Victorious Laurel.
The sight of one of the three legends of the Imperium—a titan who had propped up the sky for a millennium—galvanized the defenders. Morale surged through the Astra Militarum and the navy alike. If the Lord of Macragge was with them, how could they fail?
But inside the bridge of the Victorious Laurel, Calgar's expression was a mask of somber stone.
A private psychic link flickered to life. It was Emrys, and he looked pale.
"My Lord Calgar, this is moving away from the plan," Emrys whispered, his throat dry. "You've assembled too many ships. If we spring the trap now, the collateral damage... you won't be able to withdraw them in time!"
"Emrys," Calgar said, his voice low and heavy. "Your plan was brilliant, but you overlooked a fundamental truth of the Long War. Abaddon is no fool. To lure the Despoiler into a killing zone, the stakes must be undeniable."
"The stakes?" Emrys stammered, his eyes widening as he looked at the tactical map. "You mean..."
"I have wagered more than half of the system's Imperial fleet," Calgar said chillingly. "If I were merely a lone lure, Abaddon's cunning would keep him at bay. He would smell the ambush. But he cannot resist the chance to break the back of the Imperial Navy in a single blow while taking my head."
Emrys felt a chill settle in his marrow. Thousands of ships. Billions of souls. All being used as a lure.
"This is your first lesson in true command, Emrys," Calgar continued, his face as cold as the void. "Never underestimate the enemy, and never allow pity to cloud the cold mathematics of survival.
Do not think me heartless. You will one day face choices far grimmer than this—deciding the fate of hundreds of billions, or entire sectors. War does not care for the individual sacrifice; it only cares that the sacrifice buys victory for the Imperium."
Emrys opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. Who was he to judge the man who held the line for humanity? He had proposed the trap. He was as much a part of this as Calgar.
"I understand, Lord Calgar," Emrys said, his voice shaking but resolute. "I will not shirk this burden. I will remember that it was my plan that put these lives on the line."
Calgar offered a grim smile. "Good. You are beginning to show the shadow of a true leader."
Suddenly, the Warp screamed.
The communication link was severed by a surge of empyrean static. Calgar stood, his Gauntlets of Ultramar humming with power. "They have arrived. Chaos scum."
Behind the Imperial fleet, space began to ripple like a disturbed pond. Then, the veil tore open.
Abaddon's "White Fleet" emerged from the Warp in a terrifying display of force. Thousands of jagged, corrupted starships centered around the Planet Killer descended like a pack of wolves upon a fold. The Imperial Navy was caught between the companion world and the closing jaws of the Black Legion.
Panic flared across the vox-channels, but Calgar's voice cut through the chaos like a thunderclap.
"All ships, converge on the Victorious Laurel! I am Marneus Calgar, and I swear to you—humanity shall prevail this day! All batteries... OPEN FIRE!"
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" the cry went up across a thousand decks.
The void was instantly illuminated by the glare of macro-cannons and the searing lances of light. Ships collided and exploded as the two armadas slammed into one another.
On the bridge of his monstrous flagship, Abaddon the Despoiler watched the slaughter with a cruel, jagged grin. "Marneus Calgar... you are mine. Even if your Corpse-God rose from His throne, He could not save you now. I, Abaddon, have decreed it!"
The Warmaster was confident. He held the numerical and qualitative advantage. He had surrounded the greatest champion of the Ultramarines. To his eyes, the battle was already won.
"The galaxy shall burn," Abaddon whispered. "And you shall be the first spark."